Faulting Me
by skylar knights
Summary: Please just read it, I'm not really sure what to write here, so yeah read it, and enjoy it, and leave me lots of reviews, because those makes me happeh! :) BTW This is an emo fic and it will contain gay scenes, and self harm. So be warned... now for everyone else READ IT! ;)


**So this is my first story that I am sharing with you. Also here is a brief character description so you know who is who, there will be more characters added in later chapters. **

**Jamie is a 14 year old emo boy, who is struggling with the death of his mother. Jamie was VERY close with his mother, and since her passing feels lost, and sad, and expresses himself in his appearance. He is distant with his father, because of his mothers passing. Jaime is close with his sister, who is 19, and lives on her own with her boyfriend. Jamie has black and pink hair, but is originally brown. He also has brown eyes. Jamie was introduced to cutting after his mother died, and started hanging around a group of emo kids. His style went from wearing bright clothes to dark clothes after his mother died. His favorite color is purple, and his room is decorated with all things purple (his mom helped him decorate) His mother also knew Jamie was gay since before he was born, and never really had to "come out of the closet." After his mothers death Jamie's father started verbally and mentally abusing him. **

**Taylor  is a 19 year old girl, with her priorities in place. She and her boyfriend (you will find out about him in a later chapter) live together in an apartment. Taylor is going to school to become a veterinarian, and will often bring stray or sick pets home to take care of. Jamie enjoys helping Taylor with this, which gives Jamie a sense of happiness. Taylor has long, curly brown hair with red tips, and her tongue is pierced along with her belly button. Taylor also supports Jamie in every way she can, and tries to be the mother figure he needs. **

**Greg is Taylor's and Jamie's father. He was supportive of Jamie being gay until his wife passed away when Jamie was 12 of a heart attack caused by stress. Greg blames Jamie for being gay, and the fact that he would get picked on at school for the way he was. Greg feels that if Jamie was straight his wife would still be alive. Because of his strained relationship with Jamie, Greg's relationship with Taylor is also strained. The father and daughter often argue and fight over Jamie, and his well being. **

**Well for right now that is all. I hope you guys enjoy this, and I will update this weekly. Please let me know what you think, and if I should continue this story, or not?! Thank you! XOXO**

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><p>I had always known I was different, but it didn't help me feel better about myself. I was comfortable with who I was, so why couldn't everyone else accept that? Why did they laugh, and make fun of me? Why did they enjoy beating me up, and calling me names every day? The more I asked myself these questions the more upset I became.<p>

It wasn't that I was ugly, or mean, or had a disorder. I was normal, or at least as normal as I could be. So maybe being gay, and knowing so since I was a small child wasn't so _normal_, but define normal! I was a happy child, I made friends easily, I got along with everyone, and I got good grades in school. I had a good family; both of my parents loved me, and supported me. My sister also supported me, she is my best friend.

It wasn't until my mom died that things got bad. My mom was my biggest supporter. I thought I would be ok with my dad. I thought that he supported me just as much as my mom did, but I was wrong.

I came home from another boring day at school. My dyed black and pink hair hugged my face, which covered my left eye; hiding the bruise that encircled it. There wasn't much I could do about my swollen, busted lip. I thought I could get upstairs to my room before anyone took notice, but I guess not. Dad took notice pretty quick, pulling me back by the handle on my backpack, and pulling my chin up towards him, and lifting it up to inspect my face. "Got that at school?" Dad asked in a smooth tone. There were times when I really hated that tone, it was daunting, like he would start off nice, but it always ended in something harsh. "Yes." I whispered. "When the hell are you going to stand up for yourself? If you weren't such a damn fag maybe you wouldn't have these problems."

I bit my lip, and felt the blood seep onto my tongue; it was the only way to keep from crying. Dad held me there for a second longer, before shoving me away. I scrambled up the stairs to my room, and locked the door. I tried to not cry, but my life was so overwhelming sometimes. I felt alone more times than not, so I just laid there on my bed, crying. A picture of me and my mom baking cupcakes one afternoon staring at me from my bedside table, and I could no longer hold in my tears. I let them all out, everything I had. "Mom, I need you." I cried. "I hate my life. I hate who I am, but at the same time, it is who I am. I can't help but feel responsible for what I've done to you.

I suppose you're wondering what I did to my mom, right? Well it all started after she died. I remember my mom being happy all the time. She loved life, and she loved me and my sister. She supported me, and talked to me, and treated me like there was nothing wrong with me. After she died life changed, Dad became cold and distant. I know he was grieving, but we all were. My died from a heart attack brought on by stress, and Dad blamed me for it. He told me that if I was straight, mom would still be here. He told me that she worried so much about me being gay, and managing my life that it stressed her out so much she died. I've been carrying that burden on my shoulders for almost two years now. I went from being a straight A student to failing, and then I started hanging around other kids that seemed just as sad I me, they introduced me to cutting. At first I couldn't understand why someone would want to hurt themselves, then I realized it's because we deserve to feel the pain. I started cutting too. I told myself that I deserved every single cut, and every inch of pain that came with it. I deserved it for killing Mom, and hurting Dad. I deserved it because maybe I was supposed to be the one who died. If I wasn't here maybe Mom would still be alive, and Dad would be happy, and so would Taylor.


End file.
